


Left Behind

by wolfraven80



Category: Enchanted Forest Chronicles - Patricia Wrede
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 17:33:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8809807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfraven80/pseuds/wolfraven80
Summary: Set between the last chapter and epilogue of Calling on Dragons.Obtaining a few drops of water from the fountain of youth sounds like a simple thing, but past experience suggests otherwise for Morwen and Telemain.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sour_Idealist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sour_Idealist/gifts).



            The crackling hearth fire and the cup of fresh cider in Morwen’s hand were not enough to dispel the unease that hovered in the air like a fine mist.

            “All three of the wizards I spotted this week were in the northern quadrant of the forest.” The pockets of Telemain’s black vest were bulging with tools and supplies–more even than was normal for him. And today his bright blue eyes were not animated with excitement over a new discovery, but with a mix of anger and determination that was new to her, though she’d known him nearly all her life. “The cave systems beneath that area are extensive and I’ve not bee able to narrow it further.”

            Morwen shook her head. “And since we can’t consult the castle library, we can’t just look up the list of cave entrances and exits.”

            He got to his feet and began pacing, hands clasped behind his back. The moment he did, Fiddlesticks, a seal brown tom, leaped into the chair and began washing between his toes. “I can place wards on the caves I’m aware of, but even with the addition of an echo-dynamic module in the basic scrying spell, it will take me considerably longer to ascertain the total number–”

            “We could just ask the dwarves,” Morwen cut in before he could launch into an explanation of the limitations of echo-detection and amplification. “There are quite a number of them in the area and they’ll know the caves better than anyone.”

            “I hadn’t considered that.”

            Curled up in a chair by the hearth, Scorn twitched her ears. “Of course he didn’t. Heaven forbid he just ask someone.”

            Morwen’s lips thinned as she considered the situation–and ignored the calico. The castle–and Mendanbar with it–trapped in the wizard’s spell like a bug in amber. And, if Telemain was right, nothing to be done until Mendanbar’s heir could wield the sword. In the meantime they would need to contain the wizards and prevent them from doing further damage to the Enchanted Forest.

            Both Morwen and Telemain turned at the sound of footsteps as Cimorene appeared through Morwen’s magic door, which currently opened onto the library with its tall, dark-stained shelves. By this point, Cimorene’s condition was quite obvious, her belly visibly swelled. It was now more critical than ever that they keep her away from the wizards who were searching for her. Cimorene’s baby had to remain a secret.

            Cimorene held up a leather-bound tome. “Morwen, I’ve found something that–” She broke off when she spotted Telemain. “Oh hello, Telemain. Is everything all right?”

            He nodded. “I came to check the wards and readjust the localized distortion wavelength so that it continues to randomize the geographic positioning of the anchor.”

            Cimorene blinked once and then looked to Morwen, who sighed. “He’s making sure the wizards won’t be able to find the house.”

            Pulling up the chair that was free of cats, Cimorene sat at the kitchen table and placed the tome down in front of her. Before she could say a word, though, her stomach let loose an almighty growl. “I’m sorry, Morwen. Do you have something I could eat? I know we just had lunch but I’m famished again.”

            “I was expecting that. There’s some leftover stew from last night on the stove.” She rose and moved towards the iron stove in the corner. She served Cimorene a bowl and then got some biscuits out for herself and Telemain. She was just reaching for a jar of strawberry jam when she spotted the elderberry jam she’d made recently. Telemain had loved elderberry jam when they’d been young; she wondered if he’d retained a taste for it. Grabbing the jar of dark purple jam, she brought it to the table and set out the mid-afternoon snack. “Fiddlesticks,” she said to the cat who was still washing himself in the chair.

            He blinked his big yellow eyes at her. “But, Morwen, the chair’s all warm. Telemain warmed it for me. It’s comfy here.”

            “I’m sure it is. Even so...” Fiddlesticks leaped down and sauntered off, saying that he was going to go look for mice.

            Telemain eyed the departing cat for a moment before taking his seat. As Cimorene dug into the stew with great enthusiasm, Telemain reached for a biscuit and spooned a clump of jam onto it. Curious, Morwen watched from the corner of her eye as he took a bite, chewed, swallowed... and broke into a grin. For a moment, in spite of his neatly trimmed beard and magic rings, he looked like the boy she’d grown up with.

            He heaped more jam onto his plate. “I haven’t had elderberry jam in years. And it isn’t too sweet. Where did you get this?”

            “I made it. Last week. I’ll give you a bottle if you like it that much.”

            “Thank you,” he said, positively beaming.

            Cimorene had taken a moment’s pause from devouring the stew to look from Telemain to Morwen. Her attention then turned to the fireside when Scorn made a comment Morwen was glad only she could understand. “If you spoil him like that he’ll never leave,” Scorn said. Morwen pointedly ignored the cat and passed along some news she’d had from Kazul that morning as they continued with their meal.

            “So what is it you’ve found, Cimorene?” Morwen said, once they’d all finished eating.

            Cimorene opened the tome to the section she’d been reading. “It’s a spell that can reverse time in a very specific location. I was thinking if I used it on the barrier then perhaps I could go back to before it had been placed and simply walk through it.”

            Even as he polished off the final glob of jam on his plate, Telemain was shaking his head. “It’s unlikely that any localized enchantment would reach a magnitude sufficient to disrupt the–”

            “Cimorene,” Morwen said very firmly, “what do you need for the spell?”

            “Mostly things I can get myself without any trouble. Except for this.” Her finger paused on a line of script midway down the page. “A vial of water from the fountain of youth.” Morwen and Telemain exchanged an uneasy look. “I know we have one in forest but I’ve never been there myself.”

            “Yes,” Morwen said slowly. “On the outskirts, near the western edge.”

            Telemain’s brow was bunched up in a deep scowl. “I don’t recommend you go there in your condition–

            “My _condition_!” Cimorene said, obviously affronted. But Telemain continued on without pause.

            “–as the water’s properties could have a detrimental effect, causing the baby to revert to an earlier stage of development–or possibly nullifying its existence completely.”

            “ _Telemain_ ,” Morwen said with obvious exasperation.

            Cimorene, looking somewhat irked, turned to Morwen. “Did he say it could... de-age the baby?”

            Morwen nodded. “Essentially. To the point where there wasn’t a baby at all.”

            “But I don’t need to touch the water. If it’s a fountain then surely it shouldn’t be too hard to avoid that.”

            Absently rubbing his beard, Telemain shook his head once again. “Given the thermal hydrodynamics involved, ‘fountain’ is not an entirely accurate description. A more apt term would be ‘geyser’.”

            “Oh my.” Cimorene’s hands rested on her swollen belly. “It sounds as if you’ve been there.”

            “We have,” Morwen said dryly.

            “Both of you?”

            Morwen, caught Telemain’s eye, trying to gauge his expression. Was it bemusement or embarrassment? “It was a long time ago, before we’d specialized in our magical studies. We were under the tutelage of a magician named Azkanzer.” And because she felt it was important that Cimorene understand why going to the forest’s fountain of youth was not a good idea, Morwen told her the story. 

 

***

 

             At sixteen, Telemain was gangly like a colt, all elbows and knees that were constantly bumping into walls, furniture, and other people’s magical cauldrons. The results were a mix of bumps, bruises, and failed spells. It was for that reason that when his arm shot out to point towards the tangle of brush ahead, Morwen knew to step out the way. “It’s there. I’m certain of it,” he announced.

            Edging away from his outstretched arm, Morwen sighed. “You said that about the last two thickets we passed.”

            Rubbing his chin, smooth but for the palest shadow of fuzz, he scowled down at her. “It’s not my fault the forest keeps shifting around. It’s making it difficult to pin down the hydrodynamic flux residue.”

            “It’s hydrodynamic _wave_ flux residue.”

            “It is not.”

            She adjusted the wire-rim glasses perched on her nose. “We can double check Jantiun’s Theorems tome when we get back if you really don’t believe me.”

            He huffed and set off towards the thicket. So far their little trip to the Enchanted Forest had been uneventful: nothing had tried to eat them yet; they’d only run into one wayward knight who’d asked them for directions to the castle of the King and who’d been very disappointed when they couldn’t help him; and they’d only gotten lost twice and both times had found the path again with the assistance of a talking squirrel. Morwen was glad her loose black robes made it easy to move around, but she was having second thoughts about her hair, woven into a tight braid down her back, as it did tend to get snagged on thorny bushes, of which there were many.

            Telemain, with his long limbs, reached the thicket before her and began pulling back the twisting branches and shrubs. When these fell away to reveal the mouth of a cave his expression became very smug indeed.

            “Let’s get this over with,” Morwen said with another sigh. “I’m not at all fond of riddles.”

            She paused to pull out the note that Master Azkanzer had left them. It had taken them hours to decrypt the looping scrawls of his handwriting and then they’d had to sort out the riddle itself:

 

            _Venture forth in search of truth_

_Avoid the sting of serpent’s tooth_

_And find a drop of fountain’s youth_

_Return not home without such proof_

 

            And so here they were, at the mouth of the cave, which she hoped would lead to fountain of youth whose waters, Morwen assumed, they were meant to fetch a sample of. “If Master Azkanzer wanted us to fetch him a sample, I don’t know why he couldn’t just say so.”

            “It’s common for magicians to have to deliver riddles and to decrypt them in spell books.” Peering into the gloom of the cave, he said a few words that crackled in the air, and a ball of golden light appeared over his head. He looked very pleased with himself as he took his first step into the cave, illuminated by the glow of his magic.

            Morwen followed a pace behind. “ _I’m_ not planning on being a magician.” The cave opened onto a narrow passage with rough, moss-covered walls. From somewhere ahead, the sound of running water tumbled through the cavern.

            “But, Morwen, think of the work we could do. We’d be able to–”

            “And it’s already settled anyway. You can study to be a magician, but I’m already looking for a witch I can apprentice with.”

            Telemain crossed his arms. “Ridiculous! Due to their broad knowledge of different types of magics, magicians are in the best position to develop new techniques and these can have far-reaching effects. If you want to accomplish any real good in the world, becoming a magician is the most effective method.” The glow-ball over his head bobbed with consternation.

            Morwen huffed. “I’d prefer to be able to help people who need it now. Not at some theoretical later date.”

            The glow-ball twirled as Telemain spun on his heel to face her. “You’re more likely to end up being asked to concoct love potions and sleeping curses than being able to do anything truly useful.”

            “And you,” Morwen said, standing very straight and peering up at him defiantly, “are more likely to end up locking yourself in a tower and never speaking to another human being again.”

            They glared at each other for several moments more and then Telemain turned and stomped along the tunnel and Morwen had no choice but to follow or be left in the dark. Why must he always be so stubborn? Always assuming he was right. Always assuming he knew best. It was true that magicians had a broad range of skills, but witches were specialists of herb lore and healing and these were things she was most interested in. Not endless magical theory with occasional applications. Telemain was completely besotted with magical theory. To him everything was a riddle to be solved. Well, she wanted to do more than twiddle her thumbs and solve riddles. What was so wrong with that?

            It wasn’t until she stopped fuming that she realized the burbling sounds of water had grown louder. Just ahead, the passage opened up into a wide, domed chamber. The walls glistened with moisture, Telemain’s light glinting off the water droplets like thousands of luminescent pearls. In the centre of the room, a pool of silvery water rippled and bubbled ever so slightly.

            “There it is,” Telemain said. His voice bounded back at them from the walls.

            “Good,” Morwen said, digging a hand deep into one of her pockets in search of a sample jar and a ladle. “Let’s get this over with.”

            Together, they approached the pool and crouched next to its edge. It was no more than a few feet across, but with the glow-ball’s light flashing off the surface, there was no way of telling how deep the pool was.

            Morwen set the sample jar on the cavern floor and took a deep breath. With slow, precise movements, she dipped the ladle into the pool and then poured its contents into the sample jar. She capped the jar and then used a handkerchief to dry the ladle and replace it in her pocket along with the sample jar. “There,” she said with a nod. “Now we can go back.”

            But Telemain remained crouched next to the pool, brow furrowed. “Actually, I’d like to inspect the water more closely. It has unique properties and I may not get another chance.”

            “You can inspect the sample when we get back.”

            He shook his head. “That’s not the same. I’d like to determine the source of the water and understand the origin of the enchantment. Is it centred on the pool itself? Or is it related to the chamber? Does it permeate the stones or is it limited to the water?”

            Morwen rolled her eyes. “That’s not what we came here for. Master Azkanzer sent us to fetch a sample, not to perform a battery of tests.”

            His brow was deeply furrowed–in consternation rather than concentration now–as he looked up at her. “Have you really no spirit of inquiry?” He threw up his hands. “How do you ever expect to develop new methods if you refuse to study magical phenomenon?”

            “There’s nothing wrong with being interested in learning tried and true methods,” Morwen said, crossing her arms and standing ramrod straight. “There’s no need to reinvent the wheel every time you want to cast a spell.”

            Telemain shook his head. “But you need to understand each component of a spell in order to alter it when necessary. The best way to do that is to dismantle it, inspect the components individually, and return them to their original configuration.”

            “Well you certainly have the dismantling part mastered,” she said acidly.

            The glow-ball cast enough light that she could see the colour rising in Telemain’s cheeks. “Are you still angry about the seven league boots?”

            “You mean the seven _feet_ boots? Because that’s as far as they’ll take me now.”

            “I’ll fix them! I just need a little more time to understand the linkages to–”

            That was when the serpent arrived. It was not that Morwen disliked snakes in general; it was only when they towered several feet higher than her that she felt somewhat uncomfortable. Reared up as it was, the snake was some eight feet in height, with glistening black and silver scales.

            “Don’t move,” Telemain said in an urgent whisper as the snake dropped down and slithered closer till it rose again on the other side of the pool. Morwen didn’t move.

            “What do we have here? In my place?” the snake asked, drawing out the word “place” into a long hiss.

            And because it was always better to err on the side of politeness, Morwen introduced herself. “I’m Morwen. And this is my friend Telemain.” Eyes never quite leaving the giant snake, Telemain gave a little bow.

            The snake bobbed its head. “My name i _ssss_ Ger’Aratru’da’in. My friend _ssss_ call me... Gertrude.”

            Morwen blinked once and then recovered enough to reply, “Pleased to meet you.”

            Gertrude’s forked tongue darted out of her mouth, tasting the air. “You’re here for the fountain of youth.”

            “Yes,” Morwen said, responding quickly before Telemain could say something technical or foolish–or, more likely, something that was both at once. “Master Azkanzer sent us here to fetch a vial of it for him.”

            A huffing sort of hiss puffed out of the snake. It took Morwen a moment to realize it was laughter. “I always like meeting Azkanzer’s students. Look, there’s one over there.”

            Morwen and Telemain both followed the direction of the snake’s gaze and the glow of Telemain’s light followed. In the light, what Morwen had taken to be a smooth rock to one side of the room, turned out to be a grinning human skull.

            Looking a little pale, Telemain cleared his throat. “We were planning on making our stay a bit shorter.”

            Gertrude bobbed her head. “But you’re ju _sss_ t in time for the show.”

            At their feet, a huge bubble erupted to the surface of the pool and then another, rumbling like the innards of an indigested whale. Morwen took a step back, but didn’t get any further before the water shot into the air in a thick column. It flowed upward to the domed ceiling of the cave and then spattered in all directions, drenching every inch of the cave, from the walls down to the floor.

            As fat droplets dribbled down her face, Morwen had a sinking feeling of the most literal kind. The floor seemed to be growing closer. A her robes seemed to be getting longer. Soon, her sleeves were so long, they stretched far past her hands. Hissing spasmodically on the other side of the pond, the snake seemed larger than ever.

            It took a minute to overcome her disorientation, but when she did, Morwen realized what had happened. Already short to begin with, she had actually shrunk till she was both closer to the floor and too small for her robes. The second shock came when she glanced to her left and saw Telemain.

            Instead of the gangly fellow a head taller than her, with soft stubble on his chin, and neatly combed hair, was a boy. A messy mop of dark hair crowned his head. The grey shirt that had earlier been a little loose around his shoulders, now hung around him like a nightgown, with too-long sleeves dangling uselessly past his hands. His chin was smooth, with not even a hint of fuzz, and his cheeks were very pink. But his face, and its almost comically puzzled expression, was so familiar to Morwen that she was struck completely speechless. This was the Telemain she had first met when she’d been a little girl, her playmate who’d constantly scraped his elbows and knees scaling rocks and climbing trees because he was determined to find every secret the world had tucked away in its most inaccessible corners.

            “Morwen?” he said in the warbling voice of a child.

            “We’re... children.”

            They both turned as the sound of a long hiss close-by. “It i _ssss_ the fountain of youth.”

            Telemain frowned at the snake. “Why aren’t you affected?”

            “I am,” Gertrude said, her sinuous body coiling around a boulder. She lay her head down on the rock and blinked at them. “Why do you think I never need to shed my _ssss_ kin?”

            “But you haven’t regressed to an earlier stage of development like we have,” Telemain pointed out.

            A huff of hissy laugher greeted that remark. “You aren’t three hundred year _sss_ old.” As the snake laughed, her mouth opened up to reveal curved fangs that dripped with viscous green fluid.

            Morwen began rolling up her sleeves and hiking up the hem of her robes so she could move with minimal encumbrance. She did _not_ want to fall flat on her face. “This is all very interesting but–”

            The pool of water burbled again. In short order, Morwen went from annoyance to alarm.

            Telemain tottered towards her, rolling up his too-long sleeves to reveal short, pudgy fingers. “We should leave immediately. I’m not certain how a second dose would affect us.”

            Morwen nodded. “Yes. I’d rather not be transformed into a squalling infant.”

            The pool bubbled ominously.

            “Better be fa _sss_ t,” Gertrude said, hissing with glee.

            “I can do a transportation spell,” Telemain said. He held out a small hand.

            Morwen planted her hands on her hips and scowled at him, not caring how silly a scowling six-year-old in oversized robes must look. “The last time you tried to transport more than one person at a time, it didn’t work.”

            He crossed his arms, looking sulky. “That was nearly two years ago.”

            “You left me behind. With a half-blind basilisk and six hatchlings.”

            That was the final straw for Gertrude and the length of her entire body began to shake uncontrollably with serpentine laughter, her mouth open wide. Through the fits hissy laughter, venom sprayed from the tips of her fangs, showering them much as the fountain had done. The skin on Morwen’s hand stung where a large glob landed.

            Telemain tugged at her sleeve. Wincing as her hand continued to sting, she turned to look at him. His eyes were as bright and blue as they ever had been. “I _won’t_ leave you behind.”

            She knew that the fact that he needed physical contact rather than simple proximity meant that he hadn’t mastered the transportation spell–or, at the very least that he wasn’t confident in his mastery of it under pressure. But this time, when he offered his hand, she took it.

            A huge bubble burst out of the pool. Telemain muttered under his breath, making a circling motion with his free hand, and then snapped his fingers.

            The cave walls seemed to dribble away, like mud being washed off a window by a rainstorm. They were replaced by vivid shades of green that coalesced into a familiar tangle of shrubs and bushes. As the new location solidified around them, a sudden jolt made Morwen stumble forward, almost knocking her off her feet. Her stomach lurched. No, Telemain certainly hadn’t yet mastered transportation spells.

            “You transported us to the cave entrance,” she said.

            Telemain shrugged his tiny shoulders–though the oversized shirt swallowed most of the movement. “Attempting to transport outside of the forest seemed unwise given the field influences.”

            Shoving her glasses back up the bridge of her nose, Morwen inspected the back of her right hand, which was still stinging. A gooey residue from the snake’s venom remained on her skin. She rummaged through her bulky robes until she could find her pocket and a handkerchief to wipe away the venom. The spot underneath was red and itchy. She didn’t like the look of it one bit.

            When she glanced up, Telemain was pacing back and forth, hands clasped behind his back, a mannerism which she was accustomed to from his taller, ganglier self, but which seemed out of synch with the little boy in front of her. Stumbling over the hem of his shirt, his scowl deepened and turned in her direction. “If you’d let me examine the pool more closely we wouldn’t have ended up like this.”

            Crossing her arms, Morwen stared him down. “You don’t know that.”

            “I could have throw up a protection spell.”

            This stopped her because it wasn’t entirely untrue. If he’d realized the pool was volatile he might have been able to protect them from it. If she’d given him a few minutes to inspect it as he’d wished to they might have avoided this embarrassing debacle entirely.

            “Perhaps.” That was as good as he was going to get right now because whatever _might_ have happened, they had other issues to deal with. “But right now we need to see about the venom.” She cringed at the sound of her own voice issuing orders. She sounded like a child playing at being a witch.

            He shook his head. “I need to determine if the enchantment affecting us is a type three or type four transformative energy matrix.”

            Morwen rolled her eyes. “Why? Both have the same requirements for removing the spell and neither of us can cast it. We’ll _have_ to go back to Master Azkanzer like this.”

            He threw up his hands. “You suffer from a complete lack of curiosity.” He rubbed at a spot on the side of his jaw, smearing a gob of emerald venom and wincing.

            “And you suffer from a complete lack of common sense.” And before he could say anything further she marched over to him and dabbed the side of his face with her handkerchief.

            “Wha–”

            “Hold still,” she said, wiping the venom carefully away so she wouldn’t spread it any further.

            “Morwen, what is it?”

            “Snake venom.” She checked his hands, face, and neck carefully. There were a few spots, but none as bad as the one on his jaw, which was violently red as if he’d been struck with a hot poker. The spot on the back of her hand looked much the same.

            She started rummaging through her pockets again, but they were difficult to reach. “Bother,” she said and sat herself down on the forest floor so she could more easily access her pockets. Next time she vowed to find a better way of carrying things around. She began pulling out an assortment of items: a dried vine, a mortar and pestle, a small flask of crocodile tears, and a pouch of fresh feverfew petals.

            “What are you doing?”

            She didn’t look up. “Preparing a salve to treat the venom.”

            Telemain stared at her, incredulous. “Do you normally carry all these materials around?”

            “Of course not, but Master Azkanzer’s riddle mentioned serpents so before we set out I looked up some general purpose remedies for snake venom and made sure I had the materials and knew how to use them.”

            His jaw dropped and for several seconds his mouth hung open with no sound at all coming out. Finally, he collected himself and rubbed at the red spot on his face before sitting down cross-legged on the ground. His long sleeves came loose and flopped about as he crossed his arms, and he looked sulkier than usual.

            Telemain watched intently as Morwen combined her ingredients using the mortar and pestle. She had to keep pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose since, in her current state, they were too large for her. It was strange to think that they’d once played at being sorcerers and magicians when they’d been the very age they appeared to be now. As a boy Telemain’s explorations had so often resulted in bumps and scrapes that Morwen had taken to carrying bandages and ointments; that way she could patch him up herself and they could go on with their adventure. It was why she’d always been interested in becoming a witch. It was practical and concrete. People on adventures always needed that sort of help.

            After a few minutes she’d managed to grind the ingredients together and mix them into a pale green ointment. She set the mortar down and held her left palm over it.

 

_“By tree’s bark, be night._

_By bird’s song, be light._

_By bee’s wings, be near._

_By ocean’s tide, be clear.”_

 

            A sharp pop came from the ointment and Morwen gave a satisfied nod. She dabbed her fingers into the paste and applied it to the red spot on her hand, which was more sore than ever. It was hot to the touch but cooled as she worked the ointment into her skin.

            _It’s working. Good._

            She turned to Telemain. “Turn your head.” He huffed but did as she asked. The red splotch on his jaw was beginning to blister. Gingerly, she dabbed the area with ointment.

            “Ow!” Telemain flinched away.

            “Hold still and let me finish. Unless of course you’d rather let you face blister and swell until you can’t speak any longer.”

            He held still.

            She covered the affected area in ointment and dabbed the other smaller spots as well. By the time she was done, the redness was already beginning to dull to pink.

            “Now what was that you were saying earlier about my only ever making love potions and sleeping curses?”

            Crossing his arms, he shook his head. He looked dreadfully silly, like a little boy having a tantrum over being told to eat his vegetables at dinner. “I still believe a magician has the potential for a greater scope of influence.”

            “That may be so, but lesser scope or no, I’d like to meet the people I’m helping and know how I’m helping them.”

            His face fell and he looked much as he had the one time he’d broken his leg and she couldn’t patch him up. Just a small, sad boy, trying not to cry. “So you’re going to leave Master Azkanzer. And we won’t be studying together anymore.”

            Her lips thinned to a line. She shook her head. “No. I suppose not.” And then for the first time, she couldn’t meet those bright blue eyes. She’d always known they couldn’t walk the same path forever. He always wanted things his own way and couldn’t conceive of any other way being acceptable–or even possible. But he wanted that magician’s tower full of research equipment and a library of obscure tomes; she wanted a quiet home where she could make herself useful and lead a simple life. They’d always been headed in different directions.

            Slowly, they gathered themselves up and made their way back out of the forest without much in the way of conversation. They had to politely decline offers of assistance from a kindly woodsman and then from a talking stag, who both mistook them for children abandoned in the forest by an evil step parent. Rather than explaining (it was too embarrassing to bear repeating after all), they’d simply said they knew the way and were fine on their own.

            They remained that way until the next day when Master Azkanzer was finally able to disenchant them. But even when Telemain was back to his tall, gangly self, she kept seeing the little boy with the broken leg.

 

***

 

            It had been a long time since Morwen had thought about the fountain of youth incident and, as she recounted it, she found herself remembering details that she’d all but forgotten–and which she mostly left out of her telling. Cimorene needed to know about the dangers of the cave, not about Morwen’s decision to part ways with her childhood friend.

            Telemain had made the occasional interjection to correct some detail about the cave or to comment on minutiae of the enchantments involved, but for the most party he’d been uncharacteristically quiet. Naturally she’d not belaboured their many missteps, but their youthful ineptness was impossible to disguise.

            “Goodness,” Cimorene said when Morwen got to the end of it. “What happened with your teacher when you came back like that?”

            “Oh he certainly had a good laugh at our expense,” Morwen said. “And then, very firmly, made the point that no matter what discipline we pursued, it was important to understand our surroundings and take proper precautions when gathering materials.” Morwen sighed. “We were young and very foolish.”

            “Inexperienced,” Telemain interjected.

            Morwen sniffed. “In this case it was much the same thing.”

            Over by the hearth, Scorn flicked her ears. “Not much has changed for him.”

            Morwen cast the calico a reproachful glance. “The transportation spells have improved a good deal.” Rather than answering, Scorn began washing her front paw with great concentration.

            Telemain looked up. “What?”

            “Cats,” Morwen said. “Never mind.”

            Cimorene rested her hand over her ballooning belly, looking crestfallen. “I can see why it wouldn’t be a good idea for me to go to the cave myself. But is there any other way of getting some of that water?”

            “Yes,” Morwen said with a nod. “I’ll go.”

            Telemain was shaking his head. “But I already explained, this type of highly localized enchantment is unlikely to–”

            “What about you, Telemain, are you coming?” she said before he could get any deeper into his explanation. “It shouldn’t be a problem for you, should it?”

            He bristled immediately. “Certainly not. I’m more than capable dealing with a large, easily-amused reptile.”

            “Since Telemain’s been there before he can transport us to the cave and we can be back within an hour. I’ll have the cats keep watch for any wizards, just in case.”

            Cimorene smiled thinly. “Oh don’t worry about me. I can still melt them if they come around.”

            “Then it’s settled.”

            As they made their preparations, Telemain kept giving her puzzled looks which she pointedly ignored. When they had everything they needed, they left her house and walked a ways into the forest. Telemain had insisted on this in order to avoid anything that could make the house more easily traceable by the wizards. He launched into a long technical explanation of the mechanics, and Morwen let him go on, too preoccupied to bother stopping him.

            The Enchanted Forest was in a precarious state. The role of the King of the Enchanted Forest was more than ceremonial: he kept order in a place that was wild and chaotic in its own right. He kept the forest from becoming one of those dark woods where evil took root and warped every tree and plant and person who came within its reach. Keeping both the forest’s natural foes and the wizards in check was a daunting task, and not one Morwen wanted to take on alone. But Telemain had been a resident of the forest for only the past year. He’d said nothing about leaving, but he had always followed his research, and she wouldn’t be surprised if one day it took him elsewhere.

            Telemain’s voice shook her from her thoughts. “This should be far enough.” Around them, gnarled oaks stretched towards the sky, tall enough to make giants look like children and dragons looks like skittering lizards. “Ready?” Morwen nodded. With one finger, Telemain traced a circle in the air and then muttered a few words. The oaks melted away, replaced by stands of scrubby bushes and thorny tangles of vines. These solidified around them without displacing so much as a hair on her head.

            Before moving on, Telemain cast a spell on them both to protect them from the water. All it took to keep them dry was a twist of one of the magic rings on his left hand and a few words spoken clearly. Together they cleared the brush from the cave entrance and, by the light of Telemain’s glow-ball, ventured into the long, damp passageway to the fountain. It was unchanged from all those years ago, still damp and mossy and otherwise unremarkable.

            “Morwen, if I may ask,” Telemain began a short ways into the cave, “why are we doing this? If something as simple as the enchantment Cimorene proposes could break through the wizards’ shield, I would have suggested it initially. The spell simply will not have sufficient magnitude to disrupt the shield’s self-sustaining mechanism.”

            “For Cimorene.”

            He paused, the glow-ball hovering over his head and shining a circular aura of light. They cast a pair of short, stubby shadows, as if their childhood selves were trailing behind them. “Cimorene?”

            “If you’re right–”

            “I _am_ right.”

            “–and unfortunately,” she continued without pause, “I believe that you are, then it will be a long time before she sees Mendanbar again. I’d like for her to have peace of mind knowing that she tried everything she possibly could to rescue him.”

            He nodded slowly. “I see.” She was ready to continue on, but he remained standing there rubbing his beard in deep thought for a minute. When he looked at her again, his expression was serious. “There are any number of unpleasant things that could be drawn to the forest during Mendanbar’s absence. Given the situation, I believe we’ll have a great deal of work ahead of us over the coming years.”

            Morwen blinked, surprised, and took a moment to adjust her glasses. “You’re staying then?”

            “Staying?” The glow-ball bobbed over his head as he peered at her, brow furrowed.

            But before Morwen could reply, a voice echoed down the passageway. “Who goe _ssss_ there?” They exchanged a glance and then quickly made their way to the end of the passage.

            The cavern was exactly as Morwen remembered it: the same high domed ceiling, dewy pearls of moisture dripping from the walls, the grinning skull to one side, and the silver pool in the centre. And the huge snake stretched out on the far edge of the pool, like a discarded black rope. The snake blinked at them, her forked tongue darting out of her mouth to taste the air.

            “Hello, Gertrude,” Morwen said, very clamly.

            Gertrude raised her head. “Only my friend _ssss_ call me Gertude.”

            “And since we’re calling you that, we must be your friends.”

            “That’s _ssss_ -circular logic,” she said, coiling herself around a large stone. “I like it!”

            Telemain stared at Morwen with undisguised amazement.

            “May we take a sample of the water?” Morwen asked.

            Gertrude bobbed her head, her black and silver scales glinting in the light of the glow-ball. “Of cour _sssss_ e.”

            Reaching into her enchanted sleeve, Morwen concentrated for a moment until she found a small sample jar and ladle and fished them out. Jar in hand, she knelt by the pool and cautiously dipped the ladle into the water. She did not dare look up as she needed to focus her attention on what she was doing, but she could feel Telemain keeping watch–on both the pool and the snake. With slow, precise movements, Morwen tipped the contents of the ladle into the jar. The pool bubbled once. She ignored it. With great care, she dried off the ladle on a handkerchief and then put everything back in her sleeve.

            Just as she rose to her feet, the pool gave a great belch. She glanced at Telemain. He appeared unconcerned and was observing the pool with rapt attention. A few seconds later the stone beneath her feet rumbled and then a column of churning silver water shot into the air up to the vaulted ceiling and then rained down on the cavern beneath them.

            Morwen smiled. She was completely dry.

            Telemain was looking very pleased with himself as he watched the pool return to its calm state. “Fascinating. It’s just as I thought. The thermal hydrodynamic force originates from a rotating energy matrix submerged within the pool.”

            Gertrude’s body was writhing in several directions at once it seemed as she coiled herself into an intricate knot. “You have vi _ssss_ ited before then, haven’t you?”

            Telemain nodded. “We were once students of Azakanzer’s.”

            A little hiss of glee and Gertrude bobbed her head. “I’ve always liked his student _ssss_.”

            “Who was that one over there?” Telemain asked, giving a nod in the direction of the skull.

            “Oh that. It’s not real.”

            “Not real?” Telemain repeated.          

            A hissy laugh bubbled out of the snake’s mouth, her jaw dropping to reveal the long fangs dripping green venom that Morwen remembered all too well. “Azkanzer made it...” A long fitful hiss. “To _ssss_ care his _ssss_ tudent _ssss_. And it _ssss_ care _ssss_ them _ssss_ illy.” Her body convulsed with a hissy-fit of laughter.

            “Morwen!” Telemain held out his hand. Without argument, Morwen took it.

            She felt the magic crackling around them both a second before the snake’s laugher sent emerald droplets flying through the air. The venom sizzled against Telemain’s protective spell and dissolved into vapour.

            “I think we should get on our way now,” Morwen said. The snake was still laughing. “It was lovely to see you again, Gertrude.”

            Gertrude bobbed her head but was laughing too hard to reply. Telemain twisted one of his magic rings, muttered a few words, and then the cave melted around them and was soon replaced by the forest.

#

 

            When they stepped through the door to Morwen’s house, they found Cimorene sitting at the kitchen table, studying the spell she wanted to perform. “I’m glad you’re back,” she said looking up from the book.

            Scorn, still lying by the hearth, switched her tail. “Took you long enough. Can’t that magician move any faster?”

            “We were being careful not to lead any wizards back to the house,” Morwen said in answer to both Cimorene and the calico. She reached into her sleeve and produced the sample jar of water. “Here you are.”

            The wide smile on Cimorene’s face was a welcome sight after all the gloom of the past weeks. “Thank you. Both of you,” she added, nodding to Telemain.

            Telemain rubbed his beard. “It was a simple matter given that we had some idea what to expect.”

            Cimorene glanced down at the spell. “I’d like to try this as soon as possible. Tomorrow morning if I can gather the rest of the ingredients.”

            Telemain glanced at Morwen, his brow furrowed, absently twisting one of his magic rings. And then he cleared his throat. “I believe I can gather the materials for you easily enough. I could bring them to the castle tomorrow morning if that would be helpful.”

            Cimorene looked surprised but then smiled and gave a nod. “If you’re sure it’s not any trouble.”

            “None at all,” he assured her.

            “Then yes, thank you.”

            He asked then if he could borrow the book for a few moments and disappeared into Morwen’s library with it. Morwen watched him go and smiled. She knew it went against his nature to try a spell he was certain wouldn’t work. She would have to thank him later.

            Cimorene sighed. “I hope this spell works better than the others did.” She patted her belly. “Soon I won’t be able to do much more than waddle and eat.”

            “You’re having a baby. You’re doing quite enough already.”

            “Even so, I’m glad the forest has you and Telemain looking out for it.”

            She hoped that would be the case. If the wizards’ shield couldn’t be taken down then it was going to be a long time before things got back to normal. The dragons would eventually need to return to the Mountains of Morning and the Brandel’s clan of fire witches, while helpful, were none of them experts in magic. Not like Telemain was.

            For a moment Morwen could see him perfectly as he’d been, a little boy with messy black hair holding out his hand. _I_ won’t _leave you behind._ She had always considered the long gaps in contact his doing since he was dreadful at keeping in touch, but she supposed in a way she’d been the one who’d left _him_ behind.

            “Did he ever fix your seven league boots?”

            Morwen gave herself a shake and returned her attention to the present. “You mean my eight league boots. He did return them, with what he called ‘a vastly improved distance modulator’.”

            “That certainly sounds like him.” Cimorene yawned and hastily covered her mouth. “Oh dear, I’m sorry but I think I need to take a nap.” She shook her head. “I’ll be glad when I feel like myself again.”

            When Telemain emerged from the library some time later, Cimorene had returned to the guest room she was staying in and Morwen had made a pot of tea. He glanced around the room looking puzzled. “Where’s Cimorene?”

            “Resting.” Morwen set the teapot on the table. “Tea?”

            He blinked once and then closed the spell book in his hands. “Yes. Thank you.”

            She waited till they were both settled at the table before speaking again. “Thank you for helping Cimorene.”

            He waved a hand vaguely. “That’s the least I can do. Though I’m afraid we’ll soon have far more pressing matters ahead of us.”

            _Ahead of us_. That phrase again. She sipped her tea, feeling a bit of the gloom from that morning lift. So he did intend to stay.

            “Morwen,” he began slowly, his blue eyes fixing on her over his cup of tea. “Earlier it sounded as if you were under the impression that I was planning to leave.”

            She adjusted her gold-rimmed glasses. “I wasn’t sure how permanent your plans to stay in the Enchanted Forest were.”

            His brow furrowed and he looked much as he did when someone slighted his magical abilities. “I’m not about to leave you behind to deal with this situation on your own.”

            A snort emanated from the general direction of the hearth. “Oh wonderful. We’re saved,” Scorn said, in a tone that conveyed how deeply underwhelmed she was by this news.

            Morwen ignored the cat and, looking up at Telemain, nodded. “Good. Then we should have a fair chance of keeping the situation under control.” And, feeling far more relieved than she cared to admit, the hint of a smile made its way to her face.

            In many ways, he was still the same little boy, equally curious and careless, thoughtful and thoughtless. But given the state of things in the Enchanted Forest, they were all very fortunate he was here, for he had, just as he’d always planned, become a skilled magician.

            He offered his hand. She took it. Not because there was danger, but because she was glad

that in this task that lay before them, he would be her companion. And he would not leave her behind.

 

**The End**


End file.
